


Where You Are (Is Where I Want To Be)

by katabasis (aphorat)



Category: MEJIBRAY
Genre: Breathplay, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Masturbation, Slice of Life, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphorat/pseuds/katabasis
Summary: Koichi travels home for a short family visit, and does his best to help Tsuzuku adjust to the distance between them, however brief.





	Where You Are (Is Where I Want To Be)

**Author's Note:**

> For Nanimonai, who slam-dunked my ass headfirst into this band and this pairing.

In October there's a lull before their next single release and subsequent tour, and Koichi finds himself taking a spur of the moment trip back to Hachioji to visit his family. It's a short visit, three days and two nights, but he knows the distance wears on Tsuzuku all the same. The offer of tagging along had been extended to him, but he hadn't wanted to impose, despite the fact that there's very little Koichi's parents are fazed by, not after raising their oddity of a son.  
  
They keep in touch during the brief vacation, of course; hours will pass with radio silence from the vocalist, but other times Koichi's phone screen never darkens for how often Tsuzuku texts him. He does his best to respond to each one, no matter how occupied he is, because he knows the distance wears on him, cultivates the ever-present doubt that spreads through his mind like a swiftly-burning fire.   
  
It's during the second day, late in the afternoon while Koichi's window shopping with his mom near the base of the mountain, that his phone rings, and he answers it before the too-loud strains of the Spongebob theme song can disrupt the sightseers around him. His mother gives him a bemused roll of her eyes as he answers it in hushed tones, and she ducks into a nearby souvenir shop to occupy herself while her son greets Tsuzuku.  
  
"Hey," Koichi says brightly upon answering, stepping away from the din of the crowd and looking around for somewhere to sit and talk. His heavily-wooded surroundings are bursting with color, and this weekend tourists are out to enjoy the autumn scenery dappling Mount Takao. "How was your nap?" He asks as he settles on a park bench, shaded from the sun by brilliant red maples. Tsuzuku had messaged him a few hours ago saying he was tired and felt like lying down for a while, and the long silence that followed seemed to indicate that he'd managed to fall asleep.   
  
"Ah," Tsuzuku replies, and the way he stalls before providing an answer makes it clear to Koichi that no actual napping has taken place, despite the vocalist's attempts. "I couldn't fall asleep. Tried to," he adds, and Koichi makes a noise of acknowledgement. Over the years he's grown accustomed to the older man's restlessness, has learned to sleep through his tossing and turning at night; but he also knows when to let himself be drawn back to consciousness, when to wrap his arm around the other man's waist and bury his face in the crook of his shoulder, latched around Tsuzuku like a tether until the disquiet in him starts to fade.   
  
"Aw," Koichi frowns, stretching his long legs out in front of him and listening to the river running beneath a nearby bridge. "That sucks, I'm sorry." He can only guess what's kept him awake, and wonders if he should try to invite him up to his parents' one more time, just on the off chance that he's changed his mind. It would only be for a night, but to Tsuzuku that can make all the difference. "What are you up to now, then?"  
  
"Nothing really," Tsuzuku begins, sounding thoughtful, or perhaps reluctant. It's possible that he's contemplated a whole host of bad decisions, each more reckless than the last, and is trying his hardest to fight every last impulse to act on those urges. He's gotten better, in the last few years, of managing those notions when they occur, but it remains a constant struggle and some days he's less successful than others. "I might work out some," he proposes after a moment of silence between them, "just to burn some energy."   
  
"Nice," Koichi grins, leaning back and closing his eyes briefly, picturing the way Tsuzuku looks when shirtless and doing crunches, lifting weights. "Wish I could be there to enjoy the show," he continues, effortless and honest in the way he flirts, and he can hear Tsuzuku laugh on the other line; faltering and slightly breathless, like he hasn't laughed once since the last time they spoke.  _Maybe he hasn't_ , the bassist thinks, and something tightens almost suffocatingly in his chest.   
  
"Yeah, yeah," the vocalist replies, and Koichi can practically hear his eyes rolling. "You're really missing out. So, what are you up to?" Tsuzuku seems eager to shift the subject away from himself, away from the fact that he's struggling to sleep, to keep functioning.   
  
"Well," Koichi begins, glancing around at his surroundings with a faint smile at his lips. "You wanna see? It's real pretty this time of year... Here." He pulls the phone back to hit the FaceTime button, waiting expectantly for Tsuzuku to answer so he can  _show_  him rather than try to explain how breathtaking the outskirts of Hachioji look right now. It takes a moment, and in hindsight, Tsuzuku's probably reluctant to take the call; but in time his face does appear on the screen, looking tired and wan but happy enough to see Koichi's face.   
  
"Koichi," Tsuzuku breathes out reverently, and it's all he seems capable of saying for the moment. Something in his gaze softens as he stares at the bassist's face on his phone screen, relief and longing and  _love_  all vying on his features, in his chest.   
  
"Hey there, handsome," Koichi replies with a wink, and the other man's vacillating expression melts into a smile, faint but with growing warmth that spreads up to his eyes.   
  
"Hey," Tsuzuku echoes, focused and unblinking at the phone screen, and Koichi smiles softly, piercings glinting in the sunlight, before picking himself up off the bench and setting out to show the singer his surroundings. Koichi, with his bright hair twisted back in a braid and his outfit just as eye-catching, stands in stark contrast to the old-fashioned storefronts with their understated decorations and wooden shutters. Sometimes Tsuzuku can see tourists turning their heads behind him as he walks past, and a shadow of the old, irrational jealousy he sometimes feels when other people look at him threatens to rear its head.   
  
But Koichi pays no mind to the people around him, side-stepping them courteously or sometimes clumsily in his attempt to give Tsuzuku a comprehensive look at the shop-lined street leading up to the mountain, bursting with color from the surrounding autumn leaves. As a result, the ever-present hostility Tsuzuku carries remains buried deep in the recesses of his mind. And he's gotten better at keeping it in check, at letting those thoughts pass briefly instead of latching on to them and aggravating,  _magnifying_  any perceived slights.   
  
And so he watches the screen as Koichi shows him the tall cypresses growing off to one side of the road, the narrow trickle of a stream as it runs beneath the bridge. He shows Tsuzuku the rise of the mountain in the foreground, the sweets shop where he briefly worked years ago. He buys himself an ice cream cone and laughs at the suggestive comments Tsuzuku makes, and by the time they finally end the call the singer feels less of the nagging sense of desertion, of abandonment that he gets whenever they're apart.   
  
Koichi returns to the shop his mother's been browsing through, smiling as he finishes the last of his cone, and the look she gives him makes it clear that she thinks he's ruining his appetite. But once they're home he eats everything he's offered at dinner; appeasing his family, if nothing else, because they know he still hasn't grown out of his penchant for junk food. He makes the mistake of checking his phone under the table midway through the meal, greeted by a picture of Tsuzuku shirtless and shining with sweat, clearly in the middle of working out. He sends an enthusiastic reply (because god _damn_ , how is he supposed to focus on eating now?), and saves the picture with a grin. _ah thanks_ , Koichi messages when his parents are busy discussing a neighbor, _one more for the spank bank you're so thoughtful (´・ω・｀)_ It's less than a minute before he receives Tsuzuku's reply of  _lol. happy to provide_ , and he has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.  
  
He's back in his childhood bedroom by the time Tsuzuku calls again, dressed in his pajamas and sprawled out on the futon rolled out among the storage boxes and piles of old costumes, weathered magazines. It's a video call right away this time, and Tsuzuku looks like he's recently taken his shower, hair damp and combed away from his face. He looks better now, less lethargic, and his eyes are intense and as dark as ever as they meet Koichi's on the screen.   
  
"Evening," Koichi greets with a crooked grin, visibly pleased by the sight of him. He's remained shirtless, pallid skin flushed from his recent shower, and with his hair still freshly-shorn, shorter than it's ever been, the long, inviting column of his neck is on full display. "You look good," he continues, spoken less as a personal opinion and more as a statement of fact, and he can see the noticeable effect it has on Tsuzuku. He sits up, lean muscle stretching beneath taut skin, and his smile turns proud, almost haughty in light of the praise.   
  
"Thanks," Tsuzuku replies smoothly, teeth flashing as he returns the grin, and Koichi lets out a breathless laugh, unabashed in the way his eyes scan over his body. "You're coming home tomorrow night?"   
  
"Indeed I am." Tsuzuku already knows when he'll be back, but it's the affirmation he needs, the reminder that this temporary break in routine is almost over, just as planned. They'll be off on tour in no time, in inescapable proximity and edging steadily closer towards sleep deprivation as the days wear on, a tangle of limbs falling into too-soft hotel beds at the end of each exhausting night. "Straight to you," he adds, further reassurance, and Tsuzuku's features ease into something like relief.   
  
That expression immediately darkens though, the grin on Tsuzuku's lips turning sharp. "Good." With his fragile ego bolstered by Koichi's comments his thoughts have gone down a different path, and Koichi can tell at once where this is heading, even before Tsuzuku begins to pan the camera down, slow and deliberate. "I miss you," he breathes, one hand smoothing up his collar bone, "and I miss how good you feel." His lips are the only part of his face still visible when he speaks, and what he says sends a rush of arousal to the pit of Koichi's stomach, sudden and simmering in his belly. "When you get back you won't have time to  _breathe_."   
  
Koichi swallows a lump in his throat, thoughts immediately pulled from their upcoming tour schedule to Tsuzuku's plans for when he gets back to Tokyo. There's something about the vocalist that Koichi finds undeniably,  _achingly_  attractive, and to have Tsuzuku's desires focused on him so entirely never fails to incite his own. To bear the full force of his attentions always leaves Koichi feeling flayed open but almost treasured, and it's one of the many reasons why he always comes back for more. Some people might wonder how he remains with the older man, but to Koichi there's nothing easier than weathering his ever-present storm.   
  
"Breathing," Koichi replies, always light-hearted even when things take this sort of turn. "Who needs it, anyway?" His voice quiets though, trails off when his gaze fixes more intently on the phone screen. Tsuzuku's hand has continued to roam over his own skin, and Koichi is mesmerized by its path, fingers curling uselessly at his side. He wishes he could touch him instead, and it makes him that much more eager for his return the following night.   
  
He watches the screen as it follows Tsuzuku's fingers trailing down his neck, continuing along his sternum and lingering at the implant beneath the skin. Koichi stares, transfixed as he always is by the sight of him, and if he tries hard enough he can almost feel the raised flesh beneath his fingers, smooth and unyielding and less warm to the touch. He wants to mouth over it, and to feel the strange sensation of something artificial and flesh all at once. He can imagine the way Tsuzuku's hands would grasp at his hair, urging him on with groans and heated words, until finally growing impatient and shoving the bassist down between his legs.   
  
"Who needs it," Tsuzuku repeats, voice a distracted murmur as his hand comes to a stop upon his chest. "Hang on," he says at once, shifting the camera back up to his face as he stands, moving around his living room. "I'm going to grab my laptop and call you back on Skype. You should get yours out too. Be right back." He ends the call abruptly, before Koichi can reply, and the younger man blinks once in surprise before putting his phone down and going to get his laptop. He picks his way through the clutter in his room, scooping up the laptop and its cord and plugging it in before settling back on his futon, back resting against the wall.  
  
It's scant minutes before he hears the tell-tale notification sound of an incoming video call, and he answers as soon as it pops up on his screen, sucking in an anticipatory breath. "Why, hello," Koichi lilts after accepting it, lips curving upward when he's greeted by the sight of Tsuzuku, naked and settled back on his couch with not one but both hands gliding down his stomach. "I feel overdressed, suddenly," he jokes, looking down at the faded old t-shirt he's wearing.   
  
"Well," Tsuzuku drawls, leaning forward to adjust the angle of his screen, "I know of a way you could fix that. Take your clothes off." Koichi is drawing his shirt up over his head before Tsuzuku even finishes speaking, knocking over a stack of old mail order catalogs when he casts it aside haphazardly. Tsuzuku laughs when he hears them topple over out of frame, amused and no doubt flattered by how quickly the other man obeys him. Koichi settles into a kneel, in pajama shorts riding low on his hips, and he tilts his head to the side, braid falling across one shoulder.   
  
His palms rest flat on his thighs before smoothing up the expanse of them, causing the fabric of his shorts to ride up and leave very little to the imagination. Tsuzuku has halted his own actions to watch, eyes narrowed and lips parted just so, and when Koichi pauses after curling his fingers in the fabric the vocalist leans forward with a huffed breath, too impatient for his teasing. "Take them off," he says sharply, "I want to see all of you."   
  
"Oh," Koichi replies, looking down with lofted brows as if he's only just realizing he's still half-dressed, "you mean these? Alright." He grins, sitting upright and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, pushing them down inch by maddening inch until they finally drop down to pool around his knees. Tsuzuku's eyes flash as he watches Koichi push the laptop forward, settling briefly on his back. He lifts and bends his long, smooth legs in order to pull his shorts off entirely, and with the fabric removed it becomes clear that he isn't wearing underwear. The action gives Tsuzuku a perfect view of his ass, and Tsuzuku's fingers twitch involuntarily, itching to touch him; but he'll have to content himself with this for tonight, save the brunt of his hunger for tomorrow when Koichi returns.  
  
And content himself he does—once his shorts are off Koichi sits back on his heels, fingertips trailing up his soft, pale thighs, and Tsuzuku doesn't even have to tell him what he wants the younger man to do. They're so familiar with each other at this point, almost extensions of each other, that words are little more than an afterthought when they need to convey something. Tsuzuku's eyes meet Koichi's through the camera and the younger man's lips quirk into a lopsided grin, and he nods, sitting up and leaning forward to bring his laptop closer.   
  
His thighs are the center focus of Tsuzuku's screen now, and the vocalist reaches down to take himself in hand, trying to keep his strokes leisurely for now. The other man rubs and pinches at his thighs the way he knows Tsuzuku loves to, tiny red welts blooming across the skin there. The marks will darken overnight; by the time he gets back home they'll still be visible, and Tsuzuku will seal his lips over each one, rending them bright and angry once more.   
  
In time, one of Koichi's hands drifts up between his legs, and he settles back against the wall as he wraps it around his cock, head tipped back against one of the posters covering a dent he'd made as a boy. Tsuzuku has to laugh, because the innocuous Sanrio poster he's settled against is a stark contrast to his body, naked and flushed pink with arousal as he starts to stroke himself—and yet it's so typical of Koichi, to come across as so effortlessly  _cute_  even when doing something so unabashedly sexual.   
  
"Tsuzuku," Koichi gasps, gaze focused on the screen in front of him as he falls into an impatient rhythm. His voice softens around the syllables of his name, full of ardor muted by distance and the tinny distortion of the microphone, and the older man blinks, then licks his lips with a slow grin. Koichi is prompting him to continue, to give him  _more_ , and who is he to deny him?   
  
His thumb strokes lazily under the head of his cock, running across the the barbell punctured through it. Tsuzuku knows the bassist loves all his piercings, but that this is a particular favorite, with good reason; and his grin widens when he sees Koichi sit up a bit straighter, watching the screen with a little more intensity in his gaze. Koichi can't look away, fingers curling more tightly as he jerks himself off; wishing he could feel the metal against his tongue, and hear it click against his own piercings as he works over heated flesh.   
  
"Tsuzuku," Koichi repeats, eyes lidded as the pace he's stroking himself at quickens, just this side of desperate, " _fuck_ , I want you so bad."   
  
"Yeah," the singer replies, letting out a high, thin whine as he rocks up into the tight grip of his hand, "yeah, I want you too." He loves to hear how much Koichi needs him, that things aren't one-sided the way his mind will sometimes try to convince him. "When you get home I'm gonna bury myself in those fucking thighs and make you scream." The bassist's breath hitches audibly at his words, strokes faltering as he loses his rhythm. He's just as eager to return as Tsuzuku is, and it shows in how his gaze becomes clouded, full of longing.   
  
Tsuzuku matches Koichi's hurried movements with one hand trailing up the lean expanse of his torso, pausing midway to tug at a nipple ring before continuing to his neck. His hand wraps around his throat, keeping his hold relaxed at first as he watches the scene unfolding before him. Koichi looks close; he reaches up to remove the band tying his braid and shakes his hair loose before balling his fist in a handful of pink waves. He closes his eyes briefly, so that just for that moment he can imagine it's Tsuzuku holding him fast, making his eyes water from the pleasure-pain of it.   
  
On the other screen Tsuzuku is tightening his grip, senses heightened as he continues to tighten his grip. Precome is leaking from the tip of his cock and dripping down to his piercing, making it slick against his fingers as he thrusts up into his hand. His breath comes out in ragged, wheezing gasps now, and he fights the urge to close his eyes, watching hungrily as Koichi's hand moves incessantly from one place to another. After pulling at his hair he smooths it back down his stomach to his thigh, brightly-manicured nails sinking into the pliant skin there.   
  
Koichi's thighs are so inviting, and the noises he's making are so needy, that it doesn't take much longer for Tsuzuku to come. His pleasure pierces through him like a spear, whiting out his vision and wracking through his body. His fingers finally loosen around his neck, and dimly he can hear Koichi's voice filtering through his laptop speakers, in the throes of his own orgasm and crying out his name softly. Warm, slick come splatters across his abdomen, and he keeps stroking himself through his aftershocks, oversensitive and shuddering and almost raw from too much stimulation.   
  
When he comes to, Tsuzuku is greeted by the sight of Koichi's splayed legs, trembling in the wake of his release as he sucks at his come-stained fingers. After a long moment the bassist sits up with a wavering breath, rolling onto his belly and adjusting the camera angle before giving the other man a tired grin.   
  
"Shit," he says with a laugh, propping himself up on an elbow and resting his cheek in his hand. "That's officially the dirtiest thing I've ever done in this room. Thanks for doing the honors, I'd expect nothing less from you."   
  
It's such a simple comment, almost juvenile, but it's enough to ward off the sudden wave of loneliness that hits Tsuzuku like a fast-descending storm. At Koichi's words the sun breaks through the rainclouds in his mind, and when they finally hang up for the night Tsuzuku crawls into bed feeling loved instead of discarded, abandoned.  
  
There's only an hour's distance separating them, but when Koichi returns to Tokyo the next evening Tsuzuku yanks him through the door before he can so much as say  _hello_ , and the singer draws him into a kiss like a man drowning, anchoring himself around Koichi's willowy frame. "Missed you," he murmurs against the curve of his neck, lips trailing over skin chilled from an autumn rain shower. He says it as if it hadn't been apparent from the start, and there's a part of him that feels stupid for admitting it once again.  
  
But Koichi only grips his chin between his finger and thumb, smiles and draws him in for a deep, measured kiss. He smells like cigarette smoke and sugary-sweet perfume, and Tsuzuku inhales deeply as he returns the kiss, awash in the sudden comfort of his scent. "I'm here now," he says, smiling against the other man's lips. "And I believe you have a promise to make good on."   
  
At once a slow, knowing grin spreads across Tsuzuku's features, and he grabs at Koichi's thighs even as he pulls him into the bathroom, teeth catching one of the many piercings decorating the other man's ear. "You're right," he says, almost drowned out by Koichi's loud gasp, "I believe I do."

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something relatively cute with them because these two deserve all the happiness, okay.


End file.
